Bronstein tut-tutted sympathetically. "It's OK," he said tentatively, proffering a cup of tea. "Rooibos," he added, "with a hint of buchu and honeybush."
The Cow sighed. "Some problems are not soluble by tea," she explained patiently. She knew this was heresy to a Brit, but persevered nonetheless. "I'll just have to learn to avoid That Time of Day..."
...When the local schools let the local mini-mes out of their cages. And the local mothers armed themselves with their prams and went down to fetch them, before meandering around the local shop aimlessly while their mini-mes wreaked as much havoc as they could, in someone else's space, before they took the calmer versions home.
"Not only," the Cow began, "do they insist on parking their prams where they can cause major obstruction from all angles, but they seem completely uninterested in providing any kind of supervision for the mini-mes! In fact, they don't even seem to notice they exist!"
"Which, no doubt, adds to the hyperactivity and attention-seeking," agreed Bronstein.
"Indeed." The Cow sighed. "But worst of all was the way the mini-mes were coughing and sneezing all over everything and every one, with no attempt whatsoever to keep their mucus or its inhabitants to themselves!"
Bronstein shuddered. "The media has been warning about a second wave of swine flu," he cautioned. "It's easy to understand why!"
The Cow nodded. "The population back home is about the same size, more or less," she gestured vaguely, "but the incidence and prevalence are far lower. Unsurprisingly. Kids back home are taught manners, and how to behave in public places! Yech!" She shuddered again. "It's apparently the same in the States, where the President was required to go on national TV to explain basic public hygiene behaviour!"
"Indeed," chuckled Bronstein. "It's quite amusing to see notices up in the cloakrooms of public places 'reminding' people to wash their hands!"